A Watery Christmas
by Hina20
Summary: Sara, Grissom, Christmas and some minor problems. Currently rated T, may change.
1. Chapter 1

I do not, in any way, shape, or form own CSI, nor do I own the idea of Sara and Grissom getting together, however, there are a few thoughts in this particular story are mine ;) But please, no suing for what isn't mine, or what is mine, please.

_Dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sle…_

The song was cut off as the brunette hit the power button to the Tahoe's stereo. A scowl quickly etched itself across her face as she pulled into the labs parking garage, and eventually into stall fourty-four.

The closing of the Tahoe's door echoed in the all but vacant lot. Only swing shifts vehicles were present, and Ecklie's, but Sara Sidle suspected that he'd be leaving shortly; lately he'd taken off not long after her arrival. She suspected Grissom had ticked him off, again.

Sidle shrugged slightly and made the trek into the lab. She went straight to the locker room, where she dropped her leather coat and grabbed a sweater jacket that had seen more than its fair share of rough days. Grabbing an elastic off the shelf she slipped around her wrist, just in case she needed it later. Once suitably attired for lab work she headed went straight to the evidence room.

She had hardly been home for three hours, long enough to grab a shower and get a bit of reading done before she was on her way back. The current case was taking a toll on her, as could be attested by the dark circles under her eyes, covered by her rarely used foundation. Her skin had a slightly more porcelain look to it than it usually did, partially due to the foundation, partially due to the fact that she was probably coming down with something. She hadn't slept in close to two full days now; she hadn't eaten in almost as long.

The current case consisted of three bodies, two twin infants, age currently undetermined, and their young mother, somewhere between the ages of twenty and twenty-five. The trio had been buried together in a relatively shallow grave, only a few feet deep, near their home. They hadn't been dead for more than two days when they were found. It was almost a clear-cut case, but the burden of proof, enough proof, still rested on the crime lab.

The husband was the prime suspect; the twins father was a secondary suspect. The mother, Jessica Sanchez, had an affair, it seemed, almost a year earlier, about nine months before the birth of Michael and Michayla Sanchez. A few months later, mother and children were dead.

Adam Sanchez was the obvious suspect. His wife had cheated on him, resulting in the twin progeny's. There was also Luca Caytrit, a co-worker of Mrs. Sanchez's. His only motives, at the moment, were that she had neglected to tell him about the twins, and that she'd cut off their relationship a few months into her pregnancy, neither would stand up in court without further evidence to back it up.

Just thinking about it made Sara's stomach contents churn, especially when combined with the marks of abuse around Jessica's neck, wrists and ankles, there was also evidence of sexual abuse. She had put up a fight, likely trying to defend her children.

She looked at the pictures taken at the scene, as well as the evidence. "We'll solve this, put him behind bars," she whispered, "I promise, Jessica, I promise."

However, a yawn forced its way out of her mouth, causing her to make a quick and quiet trek over to the break room, where she brewed herself a pot of coffee. She closed her eyes as she inhaled the scent, quickly discovering that that wasn't a good idea. As soon as she closed her eyes, her mind dulled and she grew dizzy, her brain was telling her body to sleep.

She didn't listen. Instead the CSI grabbed her mug and filled it up. Coffee in hand she returned to the lab, intent on finishing this case tonight. She didn't want her co-workers to have to work on Christmas Eve, that, and she wanted to Jessica and her children to be able to rest in peace.


	2. Chapter 2

I still don't own anything, except the Sanchez's and Lucas, that's it, the rest is not mine!

* * *

Slumped over the evidence table was how she could be found two hours later, steadily working on the case. Within the lat few minutes a satisfied smile had etched itself across her lips, though it certainly didn't make its way to her eyes.

It was at that moment that her supervisor walked in.

"Sara…" he started, eyeing the woman. He new perfectly wall that she'd probably left only long enough to tidy up her appearance.

"We've got him, Griss, we've got him," she stated, relief evident in her voice. She didn't look up at him, still putting the last few pieces of the puzzle together. "The husband did it. He had the means and the motive, and, the evidence doesn't lie."

"Sara…"

"Look," she cut him off, again, pointing to various pieces of evidence, all the while continuing her diatribe, explaining how it all fit together.

Eventually Grissom cut in, grabbing her arm and spinning her around to face him. When she came to a stop she was disturbingly close, for both of them.

"Did you even go home, Sara?" he enquired.

"Yes, Griss, I went home," she paused, seeing the doubt in his blue eyes. "I promise, I went home."

He nodded, slightly. "Did you get any sleep, or eat anything?"

She averted her eyes as she prepared to flat out lie. "Yes, I slept, and I ate, is that okay with you?"

He shook his head. "Not when you're lying to me, Sar…" he examined her. Her face had slowly, progressively, become gaunt, and pale, he fared what her shirt was hiding. He desperately wanted to take her home, make her breakfast and tuck her into bed, and then curl up beside her, holding her to him, to assure himself that she really was there. But he couldn't do any of that.

Instead the man moved his hand from her arm down to her hand. His other hand moved up from its motionless place at his side to her shoulder, just shy of her neck. He felt the shiver that ran up her spine and felt her tense up.

"Tell me the truth, Sara," he pleaded, wanting her to let him back into her life, to gain her trust again.

After a sharp intake of Grissom scented air, she pulled herself back to reality. "Why? You claim you already know…" she trailed off, her thoughts ended by the look in his eyes.

"Because, Sara, I want _you_ to tell me, to trust me enough to tell me."

She opened her mouth, intent on arguing with him, but one look from those eyes, and she was quiet.

"I know these kinds of cases are tough on you, Honey," he said the word, letting it slip off his tongue, without knowing it, "and I know you have an amazing solve rate on them. But I worry about you. You get so wrapped up, I think you forget to take care of yourself," he finished, looking away from her. She was so close, he could almost feel her exhalations.

"Just let me do my job, Gil," she responded coldly, pulling herself out of his contrastingly warm grasp. She headed to the door, stopping only long enough to cast a look back to him, to remind him that shift would be starting soon.

Grissom shook his head, amazed at her ability to brush him off like that. He turned his head to the clock, realizing that she was right. Quickly he went to his office, intent on grabbing the files he'd need to assign their cases.

A few minutes later he made his way into the break room, having pulled himself together and made a phone call. The night shift was already there, seated around the table. Catherine, Warrick, Greg and Nick were talking animatedly, while Sara sat, nursing a fresh mug of coffee.

"Nick and Sara, B and E gone wrong at the Tangiers, all yours," he stated, setting the file down in front of them. "Warrick, Greg, you two are heading out to the dessert, nice, fresh DB waiting for you there," and that file was set in front of Warrick. "Catherine, you will be working with me," he gave. Earlier he was going to take Sara with him, but considering his inability to not touch her, he decided it would be safer if he didn't.

"Before we go our separate ways, who wants to work the next two shifts?" he questioned, just before the gang got to their feet.

Nick looked up. "I thought we had the Sanchez case to close up?"

"You can all thank Sara here, for that. It's a closed case, I called Brass earlier, he's picking up Mr. Sanchez as we speak," she shift supervisor gave, sending a look towards Sara.

The rest of night shift did the same. The looks in their eyes plainly questioning how much overtime their workaholic co-worker had put in to finish this particular case.

"I promised Lindsey turkey for dinner," Catherine noted.

"It's my first Christmas with Tina…"

"I told my mom I'd go home for Christmas…"

"My girl and I are planning on going on a ski trip…"

The four offered up their reasons to not work, before Sara piped up.

"I'll work."

Grissom opened his mouth to argue, but her pointed glare told him he wouldn't win this time.

"Right, so Sara and I will work tomorrow and the next day," Griss gave with a bit of a sigh. At least he would be able to keep an eye on her.

"Okay, let's go, if we're all good little boys and girls, maybe Santa will come visit," was noted. Grissom then got to his feet, Catherine close behind him, and headed to his case. The rest of the shift followed suit.

* * *

Please review, I'd love it if you did.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, I appreciate it.

* * *

The cases were all open and shut; the gang spent their last hour and a half back at the lab. Within thirty minutes of their arrival back at the lab Brass, dressed in a red suit with a white beard, arrived

"Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, Everyone!" The man exclaimed in a merry voice, receiving a round of laughter from the crew.

"Has everyone been good this year?" the man questioned with a twinkle in his eyes.

Greg got a goofy grin across his face and leapt onto 'Santa's' lap. "I have, Santa!"

"Oomph! Greg, if you don't get off of me now you won't be getting your present."

The youngest CSI squeaked a girlish squeak and jumped off of Brass' lap. "Sorry," he responded sheepishly, before being awarded with a tidily wrapped present. Once unwrapped, he saw that it was a whoopee cushion. "Sweet!" He exclaimed!

Nick was given his present next. His was a new game for his x-box. To Warrick 'Santa' gave two tickets to Hawaii for him and his wife, seeing as they never got their honeymoon.

Catherine was next, and was given a mini manicure and pedicure set, as well as a gift from the lap to Lindsey. Finally, only Gil and Sara were left, and their mighty leader would be left until last.

"Miss Sidle, have you been a good girl this year?"

"Yes, Santa, I've been very good," she noted as she stood, letting her light frame carry her towards Brass.

The jolly man handed her an envelope, which resulted in a quirked brow from the woman. She then shrugged her shoulders and opened the envelope. "Wow, this had to be Catherine's idea," she said, eyeing the CSI in question, and then the contents, an all expenses paid spa visit.

Catherine simply smiled at Sara as the younger woman sat back down in her seat, next to Gil.

Their supervisor was so busy watching Sara that he didn't even hear Brass calling him, until Sara gently jabbed him in the side.

"Earth to Grissom, Santa's calling," the brunette stated, smirking ever so slightly.

He nodded and retrieved his own envelope from Brass. He waited until he was seated to open it and then, only after several long moments of eyeing the item, did he finally open it. He then turned his eyes towards Catherine, suspiciously.

"Did you get a two for one deal, Willows?" he asked as Sara peered of his shoulder. He could tell she was smirking without looking.

"Who says that was my doing?"

"That tell all smirk of yours, Cath," he responded, receiving curious looks from the other men in the room.

"What did yah get, Boss Man?" Greg enquired.

"Grissom just rolled his eyes at this, refusing to answer, therefore, Sara spoke up for him.

"An all expenses paid spa visit."

"Isn't that what you got, Sar?" the lab rat questioned, receiving a nod from the woman.

"That would be why he asked the question."

Greg 'ahhed' slightly as he sipped at his specialty coffee.

Catherine stood at that moment. "Okay, folks, shift's over, and I'm going home to my daughter."

"Wish her a Merry Christmas from us, Cath," Grissom said as he looked over his crew. "Go home guys, have a Merry Christmas. I'll see you all after the holidays," he stated, dismissing them.

Sara was the last to exit the room, only to be stopped just outside the doorway by her supervisor.

"Sara… you want to get breakfast… or something?" he hesitated, trying to make eye contact with her.

Sara tried not to, but it was useless avoiding his tense blue orbs.

"I… uh… sure," she said in a quiet tone. "I just need to grab my coat…"

"Me too," Grissom responded and walked with her to the locker room. Secretly he didn't want to giver her the opportunity to second guess her answer.

"We can take the Denali, f that's okay with you. I'll drive you back here to get your SUV," he offered, she nodded.

She knew he had an alterior motive, but she really didn't care right now.

The pair walked out to the parking garage, where they walked to stall fourty and Grissom's black SUV. He opened the passengers door for her, closing it once she was in. He then proceeded to walk around and get in on the driver side.

He wasn't really sure where to go for breakfast, but after a little consideration he thought a home cooked meal would do her good. The man turned the vehicle onto his street.

"Griss, where are we going?"

"I thought I'd make us some omelet's, if that's okay with you?" he offered, sending a quick glance towards her before pulling into his driveway.

"You know I'm a…"

"Vegetarian. Hence, vegetarian omelet's," he responded before climbing out of the vehicle.

Sara was already out before he had reached her side. Instead he stepped up beside her and placed his hand on the small of her back, an unusual move on his part. For the second time that day he felt a shiver run up her spine.

He was momentarily amazed that he could do that to her, until he brushed it off as the cold of winter getting to her. He carried on, at this point, unlocking the door to his condo, he ushered her inside and helped her out of her coat, which he hung in the closet beside his.

"Make yourself at home, Sar…" he stopped when he saw her standing in the middle of his living room, looking around. He suppressed a smile before heading into the kitchen to make the promised breakfast

Once breakfast was finished he took it out to her. He then offered her something to drink, she opted for water, so did Griss.

The next few minutes passed in silence, outside of the noise their forks made.

"Why did you do this?"

"Do what, Sara?"

"Invite me for breakfast?"

"Because I care, and I know you probably haven't eaten in several days. And I know _you_, Sara, at least I hope I do," he gave, casting a most furtive glance her way.

Sara said nothing, she didn't dare. She feared that her voice would give her away. Instead she finished her breakfast and sipped at her water.

"Thanks for breakfast, Grissom, but I should probably go. Shower, maybe sleep…" she shrugged.

Gil sighed, this hadn't gone the way he'd hoped it would. "If you promise to sleep, Sara… promise."

"I promise, Gil, I promise. I'll go home and sleep."

Grissom nodded. "Alright, let's go pick up the Tahoe," he responded, taking their dishes away while Sara put her shoes on. He then helped her with her coat before pulling his own shoes and coat on. That done he lead her out to the Denali, locking the door behind him.

He did just as he said he would and drove her to her SUV. Once there he gave her a hug goodbye, holding onto her longer than was probably necessary.

"I'll see you this evening, Sara. Be careful, and sleep, please," he gently pleaded, before watching her drive off, and heading home himself.

* * *

**AN: **Small warning about the next chapter, it needs a bit of warning, there's a smidgen of angst with a happy ending, well, sort of happy. Just remember, it's not the last chapter! 


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **Minor angst warning for this chapter. Nothing too major, just an untidy way to build up to the next chapter, and so on. Please review, I'd love it :D And I'd love you to review :D

* * *

Grissom pulled into the parking garage with just minutes to spare before the night shift started. Stepping out of his Denali he looked over, and didn't see the Tahoe.

"Huh," he gave, shrugging his shoulders ever so slightly. 'Maybe she took a cab,' he thought. A rather sudden blizzard had covered Vegas earlier. It was quite the freak snowstorm.

Once in the lab he carried out a thorough search for the missing CSI. It didn't take him long to realize that she wasn't there.

By this time he was starting to panic. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat he picked up the phone. First he hit speed dial one, straight to Sara's Cell, she didn't answer.

The lump re-formed as he dialed in her home number. No answer, again. He put the phone down and grabbed his keys. Gil bolted out to the Denali. He drove as fast as he could, considering the weather, to Sara's apartment. Grissom knew he was being irrational, and he had no reason to worry, but his gut was still telling him to go faster.

With carelessness he parked in her parking lot and dug out the door key, 'in case of emergency' she had said when she gave him the key. Once he'd let himself into the building he thumped up the three flights to her apartment. Testing the door he discovered it locked, and he took little time in unlocking it.

"Sara!" he shouted when he walked in, door closed behind him.

Hearing nothing he looked around in a panic, until he saw that the bathroom light was on. He knocked on the door and called her name, again, and again he heard nothing.

Pushing the door open he looked in and saw her, lying in the bathtub. It was a large tub, large enough for her tall frame to lay in it. It appeared that she had slipped below the water at some point, whether to rinse off her not he didn't know, though that didn't appear to be the case. What he did know was that she was now floating motionless.

"SARA!" he cried louder and hauled her out of the tub and onto the carpet, before covering her with a towel.

He checked for breathing and a pulse, all the while pulling out his cell phone. He found neither of what he was looking for as he finished dialing the number and was talking to someone on the other end.

"Dispatch."

"This is Gil Grissom with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. I need an ambulance, now," he then gave the address and pertinent information before hanging up and hitting she second speed dial on his cell.

"Willows."

"Catherine," his voice was unsteady and cracked as he said her name.

"Gil, what's wrong?"

"Just… just come to Sara's, I can't talk now," he requested before hanging up. He knew Catherine would be t here before the ambulance.

Grissom then started CPR on Sara as he tried to scan the room. The only unusual thin he saw was the now destroyed book lying in the tub of water.

He was mid-breath when Catherine walked in, she hadn't bothered to knock, and he wasn't surprised.

"Oh god, Gil," the woman uttered when she walked into the room, just moments before sirens could be heard.

It was also at that moment that Sara started to cough and Grissom turned her on her side so she wouldn't swallow the water. "Cath, could you pack her some things to wear home when she's released?" he requested, never taking his misty blue eyes from the brunette. She hadn't opened her eyes yet, but her pulse, though thready, was there.

Catherine had nodded and was already in Sara's room. She'd found a suitcase and had already started putting some clothes and the like in it. The red head then returned to the washroom.

"Griss, we have a moment or two till the paramedics get up here. Let's get Sara into some form of clothing," she suggested, before finding a housecoat.

The two struggled, barely, with Sara's light frame, as they got the robe on her.

Just as they'd finished getting Sara into the housecoat the paramedics arrived, let in by Catherine. Gil refused to leave the younger woman's side.

"Miss," he heard coming from the door.

"This way," Catherine gave, leading the duo towards the washroom.

The paramedics entered the room and assessed the young CSI, before putting her on the stretcher.

"Gil," Catherine's voice intruded on his thoughts. "I'll follow, you go with her," she gave, ushering him out the door.

He simply nodded as he climbed into the back of the ambulance after Sara. He grabbed her hand as soon as he could. He had no intentions of letting her go yet, or ever, if he was perfectly honest with himself.

Sara was somewhat coherent in the ambulance. She was, however, relatively quiet until she could fully process the whole thing.

"God, I'm sorry, Griss," she muttered, holding tight to his hand. "One minute I was soaking in the bath, reading, and the next you were leaning over me," she said, tears welling up in her deep brown eyes.

"Sara," he whispered. "It's okay. You were tireder than you thought. Did you sleep at all when you got home?" he enquired, unconsciously rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

The woman shook her head in an almost imperceptible movement.

"Sara…"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know I was that tired…"

Grissom just sighed. "We'll talk about it later."

* * *

**AN: **See, that wasn't so bad, was it? Oh, and I still don't own any of the characters that are mentioned in the show.


	5. Chapter 5

Sara was given a clean bill of health, which she had Grissom to thank for.

"You're very lucky, Miss Sidle, a few minutes longer and your mental state would have likely been affected," the doctor said to her before leaving.

Gil walked in shortly after. "Hey," he whispered, looking around the room. "You look better…" was given idly.

Sara smiled, refusing to look at her supervisor. "Thanks. For being there," she paused, "and for saving me…"

"It was nothing."

"No, it wasn't. If you hadn't of come when you did… I'd probably be dead," she murmured, finally turning her eyes towards Grissom.

One look at her and he knew she meant it, and that scared the hell out of him.

It scared the hell out of her too.

Grissom was at her side in a heartbeat, quick to take her hand in his.

"Shouldn't you be at work, Grissom?" the woman questioned, catching a glimpse of Catherine through the door.

"There weren't any new cases, and…" he paused, taking a deep breath, "you're more important to me, anyway."

Sara offered a hint of a smile, before looking at the door.

"Miss Sidle."

"Doctor Albreight."

"There'd doesn't appear to be any trauma, so we'll be releasing you today. Under the condition that you go home, get something to eat, and a good nights sleep."

Before Sara could respond the door swung open one more time, letting Catherine Willows in.

"Hi, sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to Grissom," she said, causing Grissom to stand and exit the room.

* * *

Out in the hall Catherine had just closed the door behind herself and Gil.

"So, I made a few phone calls. Greg'll be at the lab in thirty minutes," she started, stopping Grissom before he could speak. "It's quiet at the lab, I made another phone call, Gil, don't argue. I'll take Lindsey and I'll cover your shift for tonight. That way you can be with Sara, maybe even pull your head away from your microscope."

Gil opened his mouth to argue, but was silenced again.

"Listen, Sara needs you right now, and, believe it or not, you need her too. You need her more than you know."

"This was supposed to be your day off, you were going to make turkey."

"And I will. Listen, I talked to Lindsey, she's okay with this. Go, take care of her Gil," Catherine stated. "I'll drive you and Sara back to her place to get the Denali," the woman stated, patting her supervisor on the arm.

"Thanks Cath. I think Sara and I need to have a small discussion as it is."

Catherine nodded. "I know you do, about more than one thing too, I'm sure," the woman gave with a hint of a smirk.


	6. Chapter 6

Catherine did as she said and took her co-workers to Sara's apartment building. Once there she watched as Gil and Sara climbed into the Denali and took off.

Catherine then turned in the other direction, to pick up Lindsey and meet Greg at the lab.

* * *

Grissom drove himself and Sara back to his place in silence. He'd expected Sara to argue, but she didn't. She knew she needed rest, but she wasn't about to admit that, especially not to him.

He pulled into his driveway and climbed out, moving as quickly as he could to the other side to help her out.

Quietly he led her up the stairs and inside.

"Get comfy," he suggested, pouring her a glass of orange juice. He then entered the living room and handed her the glass, before sitting in the chair across from her.

"Sara, you worry me. You are so beautiful. Some days it amazes me that you, someone as amazing as you, came out of such a troubled life," he gave.

"Since when do you care about beauty?" she questioned bitterly.

"Since I met you, Sara Sidle," he responded, in a quiet tone, only just above a whisper.

She stood, putting her juice on the table and went to the coat closet.

"Where are you going?"

"Home, Grissom, I can't deal with you leading me on, anymore, I'm not a puppy dog," was given in that same bitter tone as she pulled her shoes and coat on.

Grissom was behind her in seconds, gently holding her wrist to stop her.

"Sara, when I found you there I… I… I don't know, I couldn't think beyond getting you out. I think I could have died in that washroom… if you hadn't come back," he noted, his emotions showing in his eyes. He knew that he had to say this, and let her see his emotions for her to understand.

She shook her head as he gently tugged her coat off, she wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes was pleading with her not to. "Stop playinggames, please," she pleaded, unable to believe his words.

"I can understand that you don't believe me, but, give me the chance to prove it to you," Grissom requested, leading Sara back to the living room.

Once she was sitting she took her previously abandoned juice in hand.

"Just believe me when I say I'll be there fore you, no matter what," were the next words spoken before she looked up.

"If you're not going to let me leave… can we at least watch a movie? I don't feel like talking."

He nodded and they selected a comedy. Grissom put the DVD in the machine and Sara made room for him on the couch.

Settling beside the brunette, Gil hit play. Shortly after he did that he was surprised to feel her leaning against him, not that he had any objections.

About a half hour into the movie he placed his arm around her, and when she didn't complain he pulled her as close as he dared. He was further surprised when he felt her head resting on his shoulder, until he heard her shallow breathing.

A smile crept across Grissom's face as he carefully moved and lifted the woman into his arms. Gently he made his way to his room, where he settled her under the covers of his bed.

Tucking her in, he brushed a feather-light kiss across her forehead before slipping back into the living room. Once there he turned the couch into a bed. Once finished he set his head on the pillow, intent on watching the rest of the movie. However, it took only moments for his eyelids to feel heavy and for him to fall asleep.

Both of them slept in semi-peace for a few hours, until Grissom was awoken by a thrashing and loud moaning sound. Once fully awake he realized it was coming from the bedroom, and he took off down the hall.

Bursting into the room he saw his co-worker, hair matted to her head and face, tangled up in the mass of blankets. He moved forward and gently shook her, only to have her swing her hand and connect with his cheek. He cringed and shook her more forcefully, shouting her name.

She sat bolt upright, spine stiff as can be. Her terror filled chocolate eyes turned towards Grissom.

"Griss?" she questioned, confused for a moment. It didn't take long for her to realize that she wasn't in her own bed, in fact, this room distinctly screamed 'Gil Grissom'.

"Hi," he offered with a slight smile before moving out of her way. He caught the faint cringe that etched itself across her face as she took in her appearance.

"Why don't you grab a shower? You'll feel better…" he offered before going to his closet and pulling out the smallest pair of sweats and t-shirt he had.

She smiled slightly when he handed her the items. "I should explain…" she was interrupted.

"You will when you're ready," he offered and showed her the way to the washroom.

"Thanks," she gave, before closing the door behind her.

Gil just nodded and went to his room, after retrieving clean bedding from the linen closet. He then proceeded to strip the bed and remake it with the fresh linens.

By the time he'd finished pulling the covers down, Sara had finished in the shower. She stepped into the room looking somewhat goofy garments, but Grissom thought it was cute.

"How'd I end up so lucky to have you for a supervisor?" she quested, smiling at him, a genuine smile.

"Well, it all started several years ago, when you were a student," he gave, smiling.

She shook her head slightly before noticing the developing red mark on his cheek. Carefully she touched it, grimacing at the thought that she had done this to him.

"God, Griss, I'm sorry," she murmured, carefully running her hand over the mark.

Grissom shook his head and took her hand in his, bringing it down to hang in the middle of them. "It's okay, Sara," he gave, motioning for her to climb back into the bed, which she did.

Gil then moved to tuck her in, but was stopped by her words, barely audible, but he was tuned in to her voice.

"Don't go?"

"I'll just be in the living room, I promise."

"That's not what I meant…" she gave, turning away from him.

Grissom blinked as he thought for a moment. "Are you sure?"

She nodded her head and he slipped into the washroom to change into his pajamas. When he returned Sara was still curled up on her side. He slipped under the covers, keeping his distance from her, or at least he tried to. That is until Sara rolled over and nestled herself against. Grissom quickly realized that she was showing him a weakness, and he couldn't push her away, and he didn't want to, either.

With this discover he smiled and wrapped an arm around her. With this encouragement her head settled on his shoulder, soon after she was fast asleep.

Grissom smiled as he felt her slow, steady breathing. Deep down, though, he feared she'd have another nightmare. That fear slowly dissipated as he too started to doze off, again, and eventually falling asleep. His arm was still wrapped around Sara Sidle, holding her close.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: **This is the end, the last chapter. Please enjoy. The story is still untitled, but I'll try to think of something.

* * *

Several hours later Sara awoke to realize that her pillow was moving. She soon opened her eyes and discovered just who her pillow was and momentarily freaked, until she recalled the night before.

She sighed and attempted to get up. Grissom, however, had her sufficiently pinned down, not that she had much of an issue with it. Instead she made herself comfortable, head resting on his chest so that she could hear the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart.

It wasn't too long after that Gil Grissom woke up.

"Morning, Sara," he greeted. "How did you sleep?"

"Pretty good, actually," she responded as she got out of Grissom's hold and stood.

He followed behind her, right to the kitchen to make them some coffee. "What do you want for breakfast?" he questioned, receiving a shrug.

"I'm not really hungry, Griss," she responded.

"Come on, Sara, you may have gotten a good night's sleep, but you still need to eat something," he noted as he pulled out some eggs and the frying pan. "How does scrambled eggs, hash browns and toast sound?" he questioned as he turned around, only to find Sara staring at him. He then realized that he had only his boxers on.

"Sounds good," Sara answered, dragging her eyes away from his bare chest, clear up to his bright blue eyes. Her cheeks had turned a bright shade of red.

Grissom was of a similar shade as he went about preparing the meal. Silence had ensued, somewhat awkward, but he was happy to have her here.

"Thank you," he heard after several minutes of silence.

"For what?"

"Protecting me…" Sara trailed off.

"You don't need protecting, Sara."

"Yes, I do, you kept the nightmares away," she nearly whispered.

"Sara…"

"No, I do owe you an explanation. You saved my life, after all," she gave, shrugging.

"I don't need to hear a thing until you're ready."

"Just… let me do this?" she questioned, receiving a nod from the man.

"Remember I told you about how I ended up in foster care?" she questioned, he nodded. "Well, I saw it all happen, that's why I don't sleep much. Whenever I doze off I can see it replaying itself in my dreams," she took a big gulp of coffee. "It's easier to stay busy than to go home, to the emptiness, and try to sleep," was offered, all in a near whisper, Gil had to strain to hear her.

Grissom blinked a few times, looking the woman in the eye, before he spoke. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For trusting me enough to tell me," he noted as he finished making breakfast. "Here, scrambled eggs, hash browns and toast," he set the plate on the coffee table in front of her, before sitting beside her.

She offered her a warm smile before taking her fork and digging in, he did the same.

"I didn't know you were such a good cook."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," he noted with a crooked grin. "And I could say the same about you, Miss Sidle."

"You could, but you have a way of finding it all out," is given, with a smirk as she takes a small bite of her eggs.

Methodically she went through the meal, one bite of eggs, one of hash browns, one of toast and a sip of coffee, and so on, until finished. Gil Grissom watched in amusement, analyzing her movements.

"What?"

"Nothing, just…" he stopped, motioning at her now empty plate.

"Oh, right, I always do that," she responded.

"I never noticed," Grissom offered.

"You never looked," she countered.

"You rarely eat," was his argument.

Sara rolled her eyes a little. "It's called OCD, Griss."

He blinked. "I had no clue…"

"If I eat methodically then I'll finish the whole meal. If I don't then I just pick at it."

Grissom nodded, just a bit. Slowly it clicked in his mind, there's more to Sara Sidle than she's ever told. With a hint of a sigh he finished his won breakfast.

"Sara, I hope you can start to trust me again…"

She shrugged. "If you'd stop pushing me away it would be easier," the brunette responded, looking away. "I should be going home, tidy up before work…"

The morning had, yet again, become somewhat awkward.

"Why don't we swing by on our way to work, or somewhere in there? You can change and we can go in. No point in taking two vehi…" he carried on, one sentence trailing quickly into the next.

"You're rambling, Grissom. You don't normally ramble."

"You're not normally the first thing I see in the morning, Sara Sidle," he paused, she opened her mouth to argue.

"Don't get me wrong, waking up next to you is fine, it's great, and I'd do it every day if I could…" he stopped, looking at Sara as she looked away. He looked away too.

"I should really go, Grissom," she was glad she didn't have anything in her mouth at the words he'd previously spoken.

"Stay? I think… talking… we should talk, Sara."

"Can we talk? We always seem to argue, lately, consistently. I'm tired of arguing, I don't have the energy for it."

"I don't want to argue with you, Sara. I think that, for us to stop arguing, we need to talk, and now's as good a time as any. You're here, I'm here…"

"Just one problem," she paused, "I don't think I can concentrate with you here… with you in your boxers," Sara gave.

"Would you rather I wore brief? I'm really more of a boxer man, myself, really,  
he gave, receiving a gap-toothed Sara Sidle grin, and the opportunity to see her blush.

"Not what I meant…"

Grissom laughed and exited the room, returning shortly with a t-shirt on.

"Better?"

"No, but I'll be able to concentrate this way."

"Sara, about 'this'," he started, looking at her, then his hands. "Is it too late?"

"What?"

"After Nick was buried alive, and last night, damn, Sara, I can't see my life without you. When I thought of what I would have done if that was you in that grave… honestly, Sara, you were what kept my head on…" he paused, giving her a chance to process things. "And… last night… I was scared, Sara," he kept using her name, "more than I'd ever been. Scared that I'd lose you before I got to tell you everything. When Catherine and I were waiting in the hospital, she made me realize a few things."

"Like what? What did she make you realize?"

"I need you, Sara Sidle," he was blunt, and to the point, tired of tiptoeing around the issue.

"I have issues, Griss."

"And I love every one of them, they make you who you are."

"We have issues."

"That we can work through, if you'll let us…"

"Us, Griss? Is there an 'us'?"

"There can be, if you'll let there be one. I want an 'us', a you and me, a 'we'. I want to do something about this'," he motioned between them. "There's something here, Sara, there has been since my lecture at Harvard. You were late, but so damn attentive. You wrote down everything I said, and asked me more questions in that one day than I would normally get in a month of lectures."

Sara grinned at this. "I was an avid student."

"And now you're a great teacher, look at Greg. He does so well when he's working with you, and he comes back brimming with knowledge."

"I learned from the best," she gave. "I felt it too, this… thing… between us. There was something about you, it had me hooked once I walked into that room."

"Than what have we been doing these last ten years?"

"Avoiding each other, arguing, pretending 'it' didn't exist?"

"Can we stop pretending?"

She nodded, an almost invisible nod. "We can try," Sara answered.

Grissom gave her a grin and leaned over, stopping mere inches from her. When she didn't move, he did, inching closer, until his lips brushed gently over hers. It wasn't a long kiss, and it didn't convey how he felt, but it was a start.

"Gil," she started, he grinned.

"I'll do that more often, if you'll let me."

"Not at work…"

"We're not at work," he gave, before kissing her again, longer this time.

* * *

**Fin**


End file.
